Me etc ⇣⇣⇣

Well, 2003 - what a rinsin' year, eh! For a start, this weblog began life. Then there was, erm, that thing that happened...back there in September. Or possibly February. And of course the, um, other thingy had a huge impact too. Not to mention...so...ah, yes. A rollercoaster ride. A white-knuckle, trembly knee-inducing, towering inferno of a spleen-caressing year to remember not to forget of living dangerously.

My life coach Angus Panels (I thoroughly recommend his book "Stand In My Way And I Will F**king Take You Down! Using Aggression To Achieve Your Lifegoals") has taught me that it's important to start the year with a set of achievable goals, otherwise known as New Year's Resolutions. Here are mine:

1. Form some kind of friendship with some or all of Throbbing Gristle. Maybe go on a picnic or something.

2. Spend less time THINKING about breaking into the arcane world of miniature teapot collecting and more time taking concrete steps to achieving this important goal. The only thing to fear is fear itself.

3. Get Lunchtime Jailbreak recognised as an Olympic sport or, failing that, make sure it is included in any further series of Superstars or We Are The Champions.

4. Get the cartoon of Korky on the top left of the weblog on to a banknote.

5. Petition Network Rail to change the name of Didcot Parkway railway station to "Didpop Funkway" (this would be an inexpensive way to improve the lives of everyone who travels through it by about 0.5%)

Life coach Angus Panels relaxes on a rare day off

IMPORTANT: If any of the legions of people who read EB has any unusually pointless/unworkable resolutions to share, i'd be (genuinely) delighted to hear them. Pick of the bunch will be read out live on air on WNAK 5790 by my good friend "shock jock" Rock "the Jock" Brock III Jnr (see below). Strong!

THE RULES OF LUNCHTIME JAILBREAK: You have 1 hour to get as far away from work as possible (and back), using London's execrable Tube system. You have to use more than one line and you have to leave the station you get to and buy something.

SO THE PLAN was to take Lunchtime Jailbreak Xtreme - already the most Xtreme example of the game to be found anywhere in the world - to the next level. Move on up to Defcon 1. Take a dip in Lake Escalation. Moonwalk backwards up the Staircase of Difficulty and shake hands with Mr Challenging. You get the picture.

This bold decision coincided with the State visit of US President George W. Bush (the W stands for Willesden Green Underground Station Is Closed, in case you wondered). You will recall he came over to these shores to meet The Queen (and no doubt listen to her life-sappingly dull reminiscences on horses, miniature tea pot collecting and mis-spent evenings mastering Alien Sex Fiend songs at the knee of guitar Obergruppenfuehrer Burt Weedon).

My intention was to try to be directly underneath the ground Bush was standing on at some point in the course of Xtreme Lunchtime Jailbreak (read the rules here), just to give it a topical feel.

My carefully-selected team and I ("Me" out of Eclectic Boogaloo, "Mr Jingles" off TV'sDogs With Jobs, "Ken" from Extreme Engineering, "Janet" from reality TV abomination I Just Want A Cleaner - Not A Celebrity for Christ's Sake! and, of course, various members of Throbbing Gristle) studied Tube maps and the A-Z.

We drew up contingency plans without really knowing what contingency meant. We calibrated calibrats. We held meetings. Had a drink. Took in a show or two. Fooled around a bit (some people left at that point).

Anyway, me and the newly-slimmed down team constructed a route map which would theoretically take me underneath the Prez at the exact point he was shaking hands with the Royal Family and their assorted kommandants.This is what happened:

High Street Kensington Tube, 10am on November 20, 2003.
I sprint down to the eastbound platform whistling the US national anthem, "I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Listen to Throbbing Gristle)" by American soft rock pie-jockey Malt Loaf. The train arrives. There are an inordinate number of tourists on it. One of them asks me how to get to Buckingham Palace. I pretend I am blind and that I think the voice is an announcement coming through the train's intercom. The woman and her husband edge away as I stare quizzically at the speaker on the ceiling and mouth the words "Jesus, is that really you?"

Victoria Tube Station.
I jump off the train, pausing only to shout "I'M NOT REALLY BLIND YOU FOOLS" at the tourist couple, while touching myself ostentatiously on the nose to emphasise my point. I barrel down the steps to the Victoria Line (one of the newer lines, it was completed in 1971 and was built in honour of the Kinks song "Victoria". Other Kinks-related transport tributes in London include Waterloo Sunset Station and the Tired of Waiting For You light railway in East North-East Croydon).

The most vital part of the journey
Mr Jingles and the team have calibrated that 17 seconds after my train leaves Victoria, I will be quite literally underneath the pavilion thing that has been erected at Buckingham Palace. I'm striding flamboyantly towards the Viccy Line when I am hit, hard and low, by an object the exact shape and size of Ronnie Corbett. I fall to the ground, execute a technically perfect forward roll and spring back to my feet. I am faced by two men dressed in black and wearing shades. One sports a badge saying "CIA Agents Do It Under Covers!". His companion has one that says "Honk If You Overthrew A South American Democracy Last Night!"

Man no1: "We cannot let you get on that train sir"Me: "Eh?"Man no2: "We know you are an unknown unknown". We've read your Electric Toothbrush website and we know what you're planning. Tell us about Neasden you schmuck.Me: "I'd love to mate but I've never actually made it there".

The two guys (who I think may have been CIA agents) are about to move in on me. Like a startled otter, Ken from Xtreme Engineering dives in between us. "Look over there!" he shouts, pointing towards Mr Jingles, who is giving the two men his famed "come over here and talk to me about chewable rubber dog toys moulded in the shape of bones etc" look:

Their attention successfully redirected towards the lascivious terrier, I head for to the escalator. As is customary I contemplate looking back over my shoulder as I'm running to make it look like I am being chased, realise that I probably am actually being chased this time, hit the platform and handspring on to the train. In just 17 seconds, I will be quite near the President of the United States. The train leaves.

Somewhere under Buckingham Palace
The moment passes quite uneventfully, as it happens.

Green Park Tube Station
What to do now? The decision is made for me when we are booted off the train (i'm being metaphorical - we were actually kind of coaxed out by underground staff waving lollipops at us). There has been a security alert because someone has thoughtlessly left a suitcase bearing the legend "THERE MIGHT BE A BOMB IN HERE" on the southbound platform. I decide to walk down to Buckingham Palace.

Buckingham Palace
When I say "Buckingham Palace" I actually mean "Dollis Hill" because there is so much security that the thousands of us who came to see the freakshow wonderful reception have been held in a specially constructed "freedom pen" in the suburb that likes to call itself "The Streatham of the North".

The view is not good, it has to be said. I get chatting to some of my fellow pen pals. One of them is a DJ conducting a live radio show. He introduces himself as "shock jock" Rock "the Jock" Brock III Jnr from the Chicken, Kentucky-based radio station WNAK 5790. "Hi", I say. "Hi", he says. "Is that Prince Philip?" he asks. "No", I say. "That's the Dollis Hill branch of Poundstretcher". Rock cuts me off to begin an interview with US Noboarding* legend and self-styled Extreme philosopher Bertrand Russell-Square. WNAK indeed.

Also in the pen are Maureen from TV soap Bender and a bloke who I recognise from The World's Most Obviously Staged Camcorder Footage Of A Fat Man Pretending To Slip In His Daughter's Paddling Pool In The Vain Hope Of Getting £250. I think it may be time to get going.

The rest of the journey - Dollis Hill to Baker Street on the Jubilee Line, then on to the Circle Line and back to High Street Ken - is pretty uneventful. But I do pick up an intriguing fact en route. Next to me in the carriage, a man and a woman are having a conversation. The man says he used to be Prince Michael of Kent's Junior Equerry with Special Responsibilities for Role Playing Games. He revealed that the Queen and her family are big fans of the misfit-friendly, way-of-life-for-future-homicidal-maniacs board game Dungeons and Dragons. The Queen apparently assumes the name "Berzerker" when they play.

As I write this, I am tempted to leave that last sentence out as it stretches credulity. If you feel the same way, here is the alternative ending.

The rest of the journey - Dollis Hill to Baker Street on the Jubilee Line, then on to the Circle Line and back to High Street Ken - is pretty uneventful.
The End.

*The Collins English Dictionary describes Noboarding as "Snowboarding in the absence of snow, and without a board…partic. popular with philosophers and those who enjoy walking".